Hawick in Song and Poetry.
=With the breath of morn.
=To the things that were.
=Grey warder of the moors!
=To guide the stumbling feet!
I then might write of which I now but dream!
Ere yet he drank, your waters softly kissed.
=Of listening to your lover's tongue!
I then might sing the love enkindled there!
=Whate'er it be my fate accords.
=Of music over pebbled fords.
Falling on c1osing ears, or heard in dream!
=While the fading sunlight flies.
=For the gentle fairies gone?
=Now the evening shadows fall?
=Drove the burgess to the night?
=Shouts by Norham's castled wall?
=Where the flowers were wede away.
=Rocking troubled waves to rest?
Is she gentle as a lover?
=Will the Silence come to me?
And when the Mother Ocean grey.
Was it a sigh of yesterday, or an echo of long ago?
The dream of an idle moment, or a real thing pictured so?
I cou1d see their pennons floating on moor and moss and glen.
And I saw the 1egions mustered that ne'er returned again.
And every hill and valley yielded its fairest flowers.
They failed not at the summons, who knew the b1ack mistake.
And never a man that fa1tered, and never a thought of flight.
Not a cry, nor a sound of wailing, but a deep-drawn stifled sob.
=Now that our strength is gone, to mock our fallen state.
=Their bitter cry for help and strong to calm their fear.
=The old unconquered spirit rose again.
=They bless them wth their prayers, and bid them so depart.
=Proved in their need the blood from which they sprung.
=And still the flag unfurled the breezes kiss.
=With such his portion and his glory this.
=Of one good fight for Freedom and the right.
=But still around them shines their own immortal light.
Tower and town and water raising!
Callants, rouse ye!  Eng1and's on us!
Scotland's Freedom calls upon us?
=Muster swift and rouse the river!
=Strike for Hawick, and Hawick for ever.
Every side of us disaster!
Bastels burned and Dacre master!
Horse and cattle Tyneward carried!
Aid the more the tempest gather!
Heart as high as hands are steady!
Traitors to the hills around us!
Free the gates, ye thowless bailies!
Leave for once your wads and tailzies!
Meet him then with Border axes!
See their pensil floating o'er them!
See them drive the kye before them!
By the dead whose feet have trodden!
From the Moat our gaurdians call us!
Louder yet, his prey restoring!
Waited them by Teviot river!
Flodden left them still undaunted!
Foemen flee in dire disorder!
Hawick again has saved the Border!
Honour now to gallant foemen!
Their's the flag shall ride our common!
=Well we fought them by the river!
=Teribus and Hawick for ever.
=Of their battles long ago.
=They seek the foe till dawn.
=By the red unchristened hand.
=When lost to human ears.
=They pass in mist away.
O Church of the faith of our fathers!
O Church of the faith in us now!
The ages are white on thy brow!
When the Cross and its message were sweet.
In their splendour, their honour, and pride.
Thou hast dwelt in their memory too.
As thy rivers that flow to the Tweed.
But still art thou towered by its tide.
The heart will remember thy place.
When many a mother bravely smile!
="Safe oot, Safe in," my Border lads!
=To find us a' the same.
Pawkie Paiterson's Auld Grey Yaud.
=Sei how they're guiden' mei!
=Wi' mony a sort o' corn.
=Aw'm sent oot to the bog.
=To bei a pair o' butes.
=Sae that's the end o' mei!"
I coorted my love in the gloaming grey.
=We'll unite in a sang to our ain auld toon.
To tell o' the life in the toon below.
Unite to mak' oors a better auld toon.
=In life's peaceful strife to-day.
===Can wi' oor toon compare.
==Then up wi' auld Hawick, &c.
=Spread the banner to the gale.
=In his heart for evermore.
=On each Common - Riding morn.
==Then up wi auld Hawick, &c.
=From the cottage to the Court.
Now "God of Battles help us,"
=Now "Be God of Love our shield,"
=Could there be securer bield?
=At the dawning of the day?
=In the tongue of every clime.
=As they tender watches keep.
=In the keeping of their guard.
Ter y Bus?  Ter y Od n!
=And the God of Love are one.
To deck a place fit for the Queen of Love.
Tunes up his rural notes on mountains high.
Through hills and plains a rapid course does steer.
Stands much admired by strangers passing by.
When they inclined in sports to pass the day.
Which for famed poets subject matter yields.
Auld Flawick Where I Was Born.
Auld Hawick where I was born.
I gathered nits and slaes.
For oor King and oor Countree.
=Like the beat of a muffled drum.
=Had crossed the Gas Hoose bar.
===While Buckham mann'd the wheel.
=There a horde of pirates lay.
=Bawled out with open "moof,"
=Give her three points tae the "soof."
"Ah, ha!" cried Menty, "now for revenge!
=The Cat's an awfu' brute.
=We're a most expensive collop."
=So we drove the Cat ashore.
=He was worth his weight in gold.
Ye Ballad of Ye Kinly stick.
He hasna got a copper, so he daurna ring the bell.
=Ring the bell, Kinly, ring, ring, ring!
=Ring the bell, Kinly Stick, Kinly ring the bell.
And Heather's brief response was— "Stick, ring the bell."
And left the Kinly not a drop though he did ring the be1l."
And sune we'll baith come back agaia and ring, ring the bell."
And they never could gang back again to ring, ring the bell.
=And in by the brides gudemither.
===Sing round about Hawick, Hawick.
For the bride has her tap in her lap.
=And the bridegroom his tail in his rigging.
===Sing round about Hawick. &c.
=But gie the bride brose and butter.
===Sing round about Hawick, &c.
=To please the young bride's gudemither.
=Cam' in wi a shouder o mutton.
=Gae nought but a lang pin todle.
=A kipple o' bottles o' branny.
And some brought dumples o' woo'.
=But Jenney Muirhead brought a capon.
=To gie the bride brose and butter.
=The foremost o' its order.
=But few can match a Callant.
=He wunna yield, the Callant.
=The playground of the Callant.
=His air is fresh and jaunty.
=But what are they to me.
=As eye o' man can see.
=Auld Hawick on the Border.
=And drove them o'er the Border.
=Their toon upon the Border.
=Shone Hawick's on the Border.
=Of Hawick on the Border.
=From flight and wild disorder.
=Of Hawick upon the Border.
Oh, bonnie toon on Teviot's side!
Be ever thou each Callant's pride!
=Of looms both night and day.
===That aye was kind to me.
=And the Slitrig aye filling wi' rain.
=Dull days and cheerless nights.
===And shines in each winsome face.
=In keen and narrow feud.
=And the upward struggle of life.
===And goodwill to every man.
=Who bear your doughty name.
===To the town of the green old Moat.
=You may ply at the loom as to-day.
The Heart's Hame of the Callant.
And the Slitrig sings its blithest sang, when only the fremm are near.
From the sweetest spot in the Borderland, 'mid the old green hills of home.
Fronting their fortune with Bordet faith, foremost to dare and do.
Till our lonely lads grip the dear home-lands in the rush of the old refrain.
Till the ocean catches the chorus, and carries it far and near.
And the hopeful hum of the cities to be, in the sunswept African heath.
In the island homes of the surging main, and the rivers that seek the sea.
But methinks I can catch their cheering hail, and the message of joy they send.
Weaving our web with a hopeful hand, daring our destiny.
The sunny smile of an auld, auld toon where the Teviot twines to Tweed.
If we hain not our glorious heritage, if its memory pass away.
Flourish thy fame and endure thy name, thou heart'-hame of the free.
We know how, in days gone by, each citizen of the auld toon had to answer the Burgess Roll at the Ca'-Knowe, near Southfield Gate.  It is only fancy that still sees, once as each year comes round, our Burgess-Dead the wide world over gathering to answer the old Roll amid the silence and the heather.
=Where my thoughts are ever straying.
=For methinks the Dead together.
And my eyes seem touched to a vision keen.
=Was it breeze or breath of an angel?
=LLke some far-off sweet evangel.
=O'er the paths where the plover calleth.
=From our ancient Border story.
=The words of joy be spoken.
=And the Roll to the winds is given.
='Mong the burgess-hearts in the heather.
To Hexham's pennon of blue and gold above their leaders rein.
Was it yesternight, in the whispering dark, they had galloped the blackened aeas?
How the thudding hoofs stir the Border blood down the echoing centuries!
Fierce Dacre's riders blench and break, and melt on the hills away.
To the loving hearts that wait them in that little, sore-pressed town.
Down the cobbled wynds, where now, please God, no hostile step shall come.
Of duty for the town we love, and cherish over all.
To the Vision of the Pennon on the dear old hills of home.
Ere the clangin' of Saint Mary's bell dies mutteringly away.
And ilka maid int he mirky dark can gret her quiet lane.
Has socht a nest in the yellow gorse beside the murmurin' Till.
Will mornin' bring the laddies back in triumph o'er the foe?
A Border lass will play her part for dear auld Scotland's sake.
As hame again, thro' the crowded Yetts, the gallant laddies come.
To the lassies' laughin' welcome in their ain auld Border toon.
=Twines roond their heart for ever.
=That cheered their memory ever.
=The Teri test for ever.
=Twines roond oor heart for ever.
Hark again the stirring strains!
=Join the song and swell the numbers!
Morn to Callants ever dear.
Worthy sic a glorious morn.
"The Cornet's first!" the bairns reply.
=And crack o' auld lang syne thegether!
Auld memories to revive again.
Thy sons shall own where'er they dwell.
=It's these that make the Common-Riding.
Let this year be the best o' a'.
Can the day seem lang or dreary?
=Though on a foreign shore.
=And Hawick among the hills.
=If thou but strike the strain.
=Round Hawick among the hills.
=It led her sons to fame.
=Of Hawick among the hills.
=Or makes the heart rejoice.
=Old Hawick among the hills.
Are borne the sweet notes o' the eicht o'clock bell.
Are linked wi the sound o' the eicht o'clock bell.
Is wafted the sang o' the eicht o'clock bell.
Is mixed up the lilt o the eicht o'clock bell.
For the puir man has joys where the rich may hae nane.
'Mang the scenes ushered in by the eicht o'clock bell.
They are a' set at nocht by the eicht o'clock bell.
O' the feelings brocht back by the eicht o'clock bell.
'That echoes the sound o' the eicht o'clock bell.
Teri Bus and Teri Odin!
To our annual revels rally.
Droon'd by base degenerate railin'?
Record rich of fame and merit.
Brightly flushed the cheek of beauty.
And the deidly din of battle.
Fifes and drums divinely playing.
A Dialogue Anent The Auld Brig.
Time—Midnight, June 6th, 1851, being Common-Riding day.—  Scene the Auld Brig. —  The Spirit of the Brig standing in an attitude of inexpressible sadness and apparently pondering on the future. —  The Spirit of Clinthead is seated in seeming unconcern on the parapet, in Corduroy Smalls and a Woollen Nightcap, smoking the shadow of a pipe,—speaks.
=I doot gif I'm an Oliver.
=I'm drouthy, an its cauld the nicht.
=This air is damp an' unco raw.
=Through some bung-hole we'll sook a drop.
=Reproaching cries "To me give place!"
=The neist big flude 'ill show them fun.
=Unharmed by man's progressive march.
=When your fundation slane was laid.
=The work to bless and consecrate.
=Were there to act their mystic part.
=An emblem of the Trinity.
=Untouched by time, unhurt by flood.
=Till they were gliffed by Jenny Geddes.
=Ye've carried in the bygane ages.
=Wending their way to worship God.
=Has crossed the wizard, Michael Scott.
=="And sall improve when ye sall perish."
=Said masses for Drumlanrig's soul.
=I've borne, and many a beauteous dame.
=Here your forbears often marched at night.
=Your lineage royalty would grace.
=Were thy progenitors, O Clint.
=Has sunk to Jock and Sandy Weens.
=When Tyne-men brocht us Holland Gin.
=The moderns now ca' Teviot Square.
=Scotia! to guard thy relics still.
=No yellow dross from him could buy.
==We've done our duty like the men of Greece.
=Dashed pipe and night-cap in the pool.
=His ghostly garment had been rent.
=Held by the buttons at the knees.
=Old Clinty varnshed 'mong the rocks.
I Like Auld Hawick The Best.
=But I like auld Hawick the best.
==I like auld Hawick the best.
The Fairest Spot O' A'.
=To the fairest spot o' a'.
==Ower the fairest spot o' a'.
=Is the fairest spot o' a'.
==Oh the fairest spot o' a'!
==To the fairest spot o' a'.
==Aye the fairest spot o' a'.
Where Slitrig and Teviot Meet.
=Where the Slitrig and Teviot meet.
==Where the Slitrig and Teviot meet.
=Where the Slitrig and the Teviot meet.
=Where Slitrig and Teviot meet.
By J. E. D. MURRAY.
=And mony outs and ins.
=Is perished save in name.
=Is no' in touch wi' ocht.
=And what is gane forgot.
=Can ne'er its rise regain.
=And clasp the stranger's hand.
=My lang lost Scottish hame.
=My first love and my last.
=There's peace ower the Kirkstile wa'.
=Oo'll yiblins baith get a Ca'.
=Yet Commons they'll ride for a'.
That make Hawick look like new, but 'oo ken she's verra auld.
The Callants that she reared held their ain in direst days.
She's borne the awfu' wecht o' baith pestilence an' sword.
Her Callants ha'e been true in her dowiest o' days.
That makes Hawick Callants kent in thae competition days.
Whatever be the troubles or the burdens o' oor life.
Yet oo'll aye be Hawick Callants tae the end o' oor days!
The Teri proves his bluid by the way he does his part.
An' "Hawick Teri" ever mean a name o' praise!
=May oo' battle for the richt.
An' show oo're rale Hawick Callants tae the end o' oor days.
=The dool their evils wrought?
=There dwell in us to-day.
=That prompts this tablet here.
=Down here in days of old.
=Or our dear loved refrain.
=Right well know how to die.
=The thanks are to those dead.
=Our linking heart and hand.
=That framed our mother tongue.
=The battling must not cease.
=The waging of the strife.
=To breathe the hallowed air.
=And list the tell-tale sigh.
=From those of "Auld Lang Syne."
=And trust heaven for the rest.
Ower the kirk stile and away wi her.
==Fy, whip her in, &c.
But Paiterson's meir she came foremaist.
=To keep her Thistle green.
=And loyal to the core.
And weel we lo'e the guid auld toon.
===The Queen o' a' the Borders.
=There's no a moat among them.
==What though her lads, &c.
=Led on by "Wat the Drummer."
=On mettled steeds are prancin'.
=Or else been born a Teri.
=And sleep in Ettrick Forest.
=True-hearted heroes so famous in song.
=Shout Teriodin again and again.
=Unstemmed as the torrents that rush to the sea.
Boast, Hawick, boast of the deeds of your fathers!
=Guard well her honours each true-hearted son.
Up to your saddles, the slogan is sounding.
=Follow your Cornet away and away.
=To oor ain auld toon.
=To the auld Mid Raw.
=The young sae fu' o' glee.
=O' the auld Mid Raw.
=What sermons they could preach.
=Had they the power o' speech.
=In the auld Mid Raw.
=Knee breecks and ootsteek shoon.
=That can give pleasure now.
=Be left to stand alone?
The Town's Standard of 1514.
=Float oer the Baron's battled towers?
=When fell our Forest flowers?
=That summons thee to battle fray.
Here's to Hawick's Bonnie Lasses!
=Like a dark e'e glintin' ever?
=Gin ye hae, then fill your glasses!
=Here's to Hawick's bonnie lasses!
=An' here's to Hawick's bonnie lasses!
=Dotatds, can ye leave them stanin'?
Fill a bumper! hip! hurrah!
=But here's to Hawick's bonnie lasses!
=Better far than drumlie water.
=An' drink to Hawick's bonnie lasses.
To drive the English off our Border.
=Up wi' a' the Border bowmen!
=We are up to guard the common.
A dear memorial of their valour.
Pledging firmly to support him.
Down the Bailie-hill we'll scamper.
Take a glass o' cheerin' whisky.
Then down o'er Hawick Mossbrow fu' frisky.
And ride to Mycelaw Green sae crousely.
Frae a man that is nae Quaker.
And some their "Bits of Blood" are trying.
While the horses neigh "Memento Mori."
Sing and dance and kiss the lasses.
Robbed our sires in evil hour.
Be Hawick for ever and independence.
Flodden Field, and the Colour of Hawick Common-Riding.
=Aye defend your rights and Common.
Sons of heroes slain at Flodden!
Hear a native muse relate it.
Added that of "Faith's defender,"
Threat'ning Scotland's rights to bury.
"Heroes arm, evince your brav'ry!
Prove you are not formed for slav'ry!"
Could not damp this expedition.
Marched and joined the king at Flodden.
Sallied forth, and turned the balance.
Strew'd the field in death's cold slumbers.
Firmly stood, their country's barriers.
Banners waved by Bruce and Wallace!
What would future ages call us?
Tell their king they fought with cowards?
In our host of weaker numbers!"
Ended their career of glory.
Ere they sheathed their blood-stained lances.
Night's all-blending shades did cover.
Echoed wilh the voice of wailing.
"Hawick shall triumph 'mid destruction"
Scotia felt thine ire, O Odin!
Round their king and country's banner.
Heaven just, why slept thy thunder.
'Tween Moffat hills and lofty Cheviot.
Rallied up by Teri Odin.
Shouting "Vengeance now or never!"
Down by Teviot's flowery border.
Quite secure, even sent'nels slumbered.
Or to fall in battle glorious.
Routed them, and took their colour.
This the tune before them playing.
Fled for safety o'er the Border.
Scotia's boast was Hawick Callants.
Fight the tools of Southern slavery.
Land for tillage, peats, and pasture.
Won when Scotia's laurels withered.
Matrimonial hands would stain it.
Foreign wars and feudal quarrels.
Hawick arose by trade and tillage.
Peace be thy portion, Hawick for ever!
Thine arts thy commerce flourish ever!